Pollution. Traffic. Vulture taxi drivers. A mess.
Maybe you’ve heard about Athens.
“This city was a city to avoid, if I’m allowed to say this,” said George Rostandis.
Rostandis works as a media escort (that is, he shows reporters stuff here) for the Greek National Tourist Organization. I have no clue what they allow him to say, and I don’t care; for the moment I’m just a stenographer (from the Greek stenos) grateful that someone is saying this besides me and, most important, that he’s Greek.
Rostandis, an honorable man, insists Athens is better that it was. Here, after a recent five-day visit, is what I know for sure:
It was fun. It was worth it. It was enough.
It certainly seemed better than it was on an earlier stop in late 2002.
Let’s start with the air quality. The smog, eye-burning last time, wasn’t evident this time.
“It used to be much, much worse,” Rostandis said. Tougher standards have been introduced for industry, residential heating and cars, and new buses run cleaner, he said.
Traffic, most of the time, was moving well. Credit new peripheral highways, officials said, one key link completed days before I got there.
“Until now,” said Spyros Pappas, accommodations manager for Athens 2004, the organization staging this year’s Olympic Games (which we’ll talk about), “all the traffic of Athens that had to go from one side of the city to the other crossed the center.”
Taxis? Even locals berate them, but I had no problems last time and no problems this time.
“It’s much better than we think it is,” said Pappas.
“We are a big exaggerating people,” said Theodosia Mattioli, who runs a gallery near the Acropolis metro station. “You see how we react with everything–`big pollution,’ `big traffic’ — but it’s not so bad. We survive.”
As on that earlier visit, some major construction was ongoing, scaffolding covered a few monuments (Hadrian’s Arch was entirely wrapped) and sidewalks were in need of repair.
“Many projects are not finished,” Pappas conceded. “If you go around the city, you will see there are problems.”
But they’re not as unavoidable as they were 15 months earlier, when just driving in from the airport was like negotiating through bombed-out Kandahar.
Even allowing for a freak snowstorm that was the city’s worst in 20 years–actually, the flocked palm and olive trees were gorgeous–Athens, this time, was a nice place to be. It still isn’t Paris–let’s get that straight right up front–but it absolutely is better than it was, and that’s something.
The birthplace of democracy (from the Greek demos) is in an interesting situation right now, primarily because the Greek capital, in August, will be host to those 2004 Olympic Games–unless somebody, in the grand tradition of Lord Elgin, snatches them away.
One story, told to me by a well-placed Greek and unconfirmed but worth spreading for effect anyway, is this:
Some Australians last year were so unnerved by the state of preparations, particularly security, they threatened to petition the International Olympic Committee to move the 2004 Games back to Sydney, site of the generally smooth-running 2000 version.
Won’t happen. Too much blood, sweat and concrete have already been poured here–but see the accompanying story on all that.
What we’re really here to talk about is Athens the City, not Athens the Olympic Venue, so people will know what they can do in town when they aren’t ducking javelins or watching women hurdling. (Or why, Games or Not, it makes sense to schedule an extra day or two for Athens before catching the cruise ship to Dubrovnik or the next ferry to Santorini.)
Let’s start with the reality that any place with a concentration of 4 million Greeks can’t be all bad. If you don’t know that first-hand, you’ll just have to trust me.
Moving right along . . .
The Parthenon is astounding.
It may be a shambles, and construction cranes may mess up your photos, and the Elgin Marbles–the sculpted Parthenon frieze shipped to (or looted for, depending on your point of view) England by Lord Elgin two centuries ago–may still be in the British Museum . . .
(“He caused more damage than what he got away with,” Rostandis said of the lord. “You don’t know how many statues he let drop.” Discussions regarding repatriation of the Marbles, perhaps as a loan, at this writing remained contentious but alive.)
. . . But even scaffolded and mutlilated, the sheer mass of the Parthenon, its beauty, and what it represents–the Glory that was the Age of Pericles, Socrates, Aristophanes and the rest–makes it one the world’s essential sights.
It overlooks the city from its Acropolis perch 511 feet above street level. (There’s more good stuff up there.) At night, floodlit, it looks like a floating dream.
Spurred by pressure, and subsidy, from the European Union linked to the Olympics bid, the Parthenon and Acropolis today are part of a newly designated archeological and historic park, unified by a pedestrian walkway that previously was a street jammed with fume-belching tour buses.
The buses, most of which no longer belch, now drop off their patrons and disperse without stinking up the aesthetics. Today’s hearty walker can take in the Acropolis and its museum, the Temples of Hephaestus and Zeus, Greek and Roman Agoras, Greek and Roman theaters, and assorted other monuments in a day–though two, at least, would be best–with only one busy street breaking the spell.
And you won’t be seeing half of it.
“We live on monuments,” said Rostandis, and that’s true in both senses of the sentence: Tourism now rivals olives, marble, pistachios and the rest as Greece’s primary cash crop; and the people literally live on monuments. “Wherever you dig in the city, you come up with ruins.”
Beneath the Divani Palace Acropolis, a five-star hotel a few blocks south of the Parthenon, an ancient wall was discovered during construction. Enter the lobby and ask to see it; it’s on a lower walkway leading to one of the hotel’s restaurants, protected by glass. The Acropolis metro station has showcases full of ancient souvenirs discovered during excavation for the subway (along with lifesize reproductions of those troublesome Marbles, lest anyone forget).
And there are the museums. Some that have been closed for renovations and security upgrades are reopening now, notably the grand (I’m told; I’ve missed it twice) National Archeological Museum; the Byzantine Museum had just reopened in February. There are others. Museum lovers will find them.
Lovers of historic churches will find some dating to Byzantium.
Shoppers will find shopping. Kolonaki–spiffiest of Athens’ districts–is a mix of Milan’s high-priced sophistication and San Francisco’s hills; Plaka is full of galleries and tchotchkes; and there’s the much-heralded Monastiraki flea market, open daily but a dismal bore anytime but Sunday mornings.
But now . . . for a really good time . . .
Find the Central Market. It’s an easy walk from the Monastiraki metro station (which is also around the corner from Hadrian’s Library and the Roman Agora). Get there before noon and walk the aisles and listen to the sounds. The lambs’ heads may be off-putting, but deal with it.
Look for the little restaurants in the market, and squeeze into one for lunch. Here is where you’ll rub shoulders with actual working Athenians (and a few tourists–you won’t be alone), and you’ll find some things familiar, some things peculiar. Not sure what you want? Walk up to the kitchen–it’ll be wide open–and point.
Speaking of food: You’ll find all the Greektown staples in Athens (although the saganaki won’t be flaming), but open your mind. Most tavernas and larger places have English menus featuring dishes you won’t recognize and waiters capable of explaining them, albeit sometimes simply.
One explanation, in a market restaurant: “Soup. Stomach.”
“Our cooking is OK, but it’s no match for French, or even Italian,” said Rostandis. “But you may be surprised at the variety. Never sophisticated, but varietal.”
Everyone has a meal, or a glass of something, on a courtyard in Plaka, and they’re right. But ask around. Or walk around, say, Psiri, the changing, exciting neighborhood just north of Monastiraki. Listen, and watch, and sniff, and trust your instincts. There are treasures here.
Once you’ve done the checklist thing–the Parthenon, museums and the rest–and taken a day-trip somewhere, discover the living city above the ruins. That’s what makes it worth an extra day. Or night.
“Greece,” said Eleftherios Ikonomou of the Ministry of Public Order (the Greek police), “is one of the safest countries in the world.”
Here’s an Athens story.
It’s a Sunday night, around 8, early for a city that doesn’t even think about dinner until 9 and doesn’t get unwound until many, many hours later.
I’m wandering around Makrigiani, a mixed residential-commercial area bordering the Acropolis. The gleaming Parthenon is up there in the sky, doing its magic– but that’s not what this story is about.
On a back street, a door opens, disgorging a slightly drunken man, a gust of cigarette smoke and a joyous sound. This is a small bar–Radiophono, it’s called–dark, smoky and full of life, and it takes the help of an enormous woman watching the door to squeeze me in and get me onto a stool, where I order a glass of the house red.
Which I nurse, for a long time.
For in that bar are two men with guitars, a third with a bouzouki and a fourth with an accordion, and maybe 50 of the rest of us. The musicians are playing. The people, most at small tables with bottles of wine at variable levels of fullness, are singing.
They know all the words. All the words. Sometimes the singing is in harmony. Sometimes there is clapping. Often there is laughter. Always, there is emotion in the singing: of defiance, of survival, of revenge and justice and triumph.
That’s just from the sound of it. I have absolutely no idea what they are really singing about. They might have been singing about groceries. It might have been someone’s birthday party . . .
“Are these love songs?” I ask the woman next to me, a blond chain-smoker likely in her 40s, here with a friend, a brunette chain-smoker likely in her 40s.
“No,” she says. “Forgive me, my English is no good. No, not love songs. They’re just–traditional Greek songs.”
With that, the musicians turn tender. The singing turns tender with them.
“This,” the blond says, “is a love song.”
And in the sudden melancholia, her eyes grow moist. And she sings . . . they all sing, including the fat lady by the door, whose voice is pure and deep and knowing and who sings in harmony . . .
The ruins of ancient Athens are thrilling, the food comforting, the metro functional, the Olympic preparations interesting. I have pictures of the temples, good memories of the food, and stubs from the metro, and an Olympic mug.
That night–that night, in that room, the music and the joy and the pathos (from the Greek . . .)–that’s the Athens that will bring me back.
When it’s finished.
WHILE YOU’RE IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD . . .
MUST-SEE SITES
It’s easy even on a relatively short visit to see more of Greece than just its capital. Several companies, notably Chat Tours (www.travelinechatours.com/greece.html), but there are others, offer reasonably priced day-trips, or longer excursions, with English-speaking guides (and usually at identical prices); independent travelers will find a way using local transportation.
Some options:
Delphi. It’s a 3 1/2-hour bus ride each way, but it’s through Attica countryside covered with olive trees, grapevines and cotton, plus the occasional shepherd or goatherd with flock. The sprawling ruins at Delphi, including the Temple of Apollo (the ancient Oracle is long gone) and a well-preserved theater, and the museum featuring the famed bronze Charioteer (you’ll recognize it when you see it . . . maybe), are stunningly set in Yellowstone-like splendor. If you take one day-trip and care at all about history (and if not, why are you here?), make this the one.
Hydra. It isn’t the most spectacular of the Greek Islands–you’ll get an argument over which is–but it’s the best one reachable by quick ferry for a good sampling. Take the Metro to the Port of Piraeus (about 30 minutes and 90 cents), hop on a Flying Dolphin hydrofoil for the 90-minute ride (about $40 round-trip), stroll though the town and along the harbor, have a leisurely lunch and get back in time for dinner, perhaps in Piraeus. (The tour companies offer three-island, one-day cruises that include Hydra and two others; skip it, unless all you want to see is the boat.)
Sounion. The reason to come here is the Temple of Poseidon. Built around the same time as the Parthenon and with a view to the Aegean, it has captured the imaginations of writers from Homer to Lord Byron. You’ll see the postcards everywhere in Athens; might as well make your own.
Corinth. There’s a canal there, begun by Nero and completed in 1893, and a modern city. More interesting, except for engineers, is Ancient Corinth, associated with St. Paul (1st, 2d Corinthians in the New Testament) and where more ruins survive, including another temple dedicated to Apollo and traces of the Greek-Roman agora (marketplace). A pleasant morning excursion, with extra meaning for the devout eager to trace the steps of the apostles.
The Islands. Luxury cruises of the Eastern Mediterranean and the Greek Islands continue into late October, and for many people those are great. But independent travelers, even those without access to a private yacht, shouldn’t dismiss the notion of creating their own Greek Islands adventure around an Athens visit, utilizing fast and less fast ferries, large and not-so-large vessels, even mixing in a plane ride when time demands it or patience thins. Leaders include Blue Star Ferries (www.bluestarferries.com) and Hellas Flying Dolphins (www.dolphins.gr), but there are others. Sample fare: Athens (Piraeus) to Mykonos, 5 hours, about $60 round trip via Blue Star. There are shorter hops. This one takes a little homework but could be an all-timer . . .
–Alan Solomon
IF YOU GO
GETTING THERE
No airline flies non-stop from Chicago to Athens, but many will get you there with connections in such cities as London, Zurich, Amsterdam, Brussels and Frankfurt, Germany. Expect high-season (summer) fares around $1,200; we paid $672 in February on Swiss International (an American Airlines partner), changing planes in Zurich. Flight times vary, but figure on the trip taking about 12 to 14 hours.
GETTING AROUND
Historic Athens is fairly compact–though hilly in places–so bring comfortable shoes, take your time and you’ll be fine on foot. Athens’ expanded Metro system (about 90 cents a ride, $3.75 for 24 hours) is easy and terrific; a new tram system was either in test stage or some other pre-Olympic stage on my visit. Athenian taxis may be satanic by reputation, but in two trips to (and around and around) Athens, I’ve found the drivers cordial (and able to communicate in English), the fares fair (about $30 from the airport to downtown, reasonable for short hauls) and skulduggery non-existent. Be alert anyway; maybe I’ve been lucky. And don’t even think of renting a car, unless you’re planning excursions and don’t like tours.
STAYING THERE
The accommodations situation, once a problem in Athens–especially at mid-range–has improved, mainly due to government-aided renovations linked to the Olympics. The five-star standards such as the venerable Grand Bretagne and the sprawling Hilton have been joined by dozens of renovated three- and four-star lodgings in the heart of town, and that’s where the values are. A few well-located, fairly priced hotels we checked and liked (listed prices are rack rates, which you shouldn’t have to pay): the four-star Herodion (doubles $215-$291, depending on the season; www.herodion.gr), three-star Plaka ($112-$145; www.plakahotel.gr) and Philippos ($195-$256; philipposhotel.gr), and one five-star, the Divani Palace Acropolis ($260-$450), which manages at once to be luxurious and cozy, with a quiet location and worth the tab. But check the hotels’ Web sites (and other Web sites) for discounts and promotions, which are common.
August (Olympics) prices are nuts.
DINING THERE
You’ll dine late (dinner starts around 9 p.m.) but well. Don’t miss the view of the Parthenon from the rooftop tables (and good food served on them) at Taverna Strofi (921-4130) near the Acropolis, the heavenly fried calamari at Taverna Vizantino (322-7368) in Plaka, the pan-fried red mullets at Maritsa’s (363-0132) in the swank Kolonaki district, and the music and fun (and souvlaki) at Sigalas-Bairaktaris (321-3036), right across from the Monastiriki metro stop. So many more . . . and not just Greek.
ACCESSIBILITY
Better, thanks to new sidewalks and pedestrian routes, but still limited. The Acropolis (site of the Parthenon) can be appreciated from a distance, but getting close means steps and rough terrain; hills can create challenges elsewhere.
INFORMATION
Call the Greek National Tourist Organization’s New York office at 212-421-5777, or check www.greektourism.com on the Web. For Olympics information, the official Web site is www.athens2004.com.
— A.S.
———-
E-mail Alan Solomon: asolomon@tribune.com
